Long Satanic Poems
Long Satanic Poems. Below are the most popular long Satanic by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Satanic poems by poem length and keyword.
What secrets lurk in my mind,
What forces torment my soul?
Secrets of some sinister kind,
Forces of evil eyes, black as coal!
I can sense your pounding heart
And smell the sweat of your fear,
Lo! I say so in truth from the start
So you are forewarned, be clear.
I thirst for blood, warm and red
And a virgin's heart I wildly desire,
If you read any further you'll be led
down a path to the pit of fiery fire.
I cast diabolical spells with words
to lure you into a satanic ritual,
I use no knives, arrows or swords,
It's purely carnal and not spiritual.
Do not read this poem twice
It will trigger invocation to a spirit
And turn your warm blood into ice
And let me your soul to inherit.
For I have made a pact with the Devil,
I am offered worldly wealth and power
To lead you down the dire path of evil
And with your blood my soul to scour!
~"Tales from the Dark Side" contest by Kelly Deschler
Darkness was descending in a crawled dread,
entering evening’s creepy gloom by that fence
vile and sharp as evil silhouettes of greed’s luv..
In the narrow guarded gates, a Halloween alibi
living open, is a walking workforce all powerful
sporting eyes, bloodied, from searing naked souls…
Gamblers risk the chains always snapping
Ankles bound clank with links as Metallica
undoes panic screams, of nonexistent you,
now a mere silent statistic mute and shorn,
tied down in a sterile stainless-steely night
left to the mercies of a tamed cold, so feral…
Edenites guard walled riches from the ogre
that hails from a south, full of satanic heat!
(11/27/2022 - For Emile Pinet’s Halloween contest)
Socialization
When does socialization become sexualization?
When does socialization become sabotaging?
Socialization isn't sexualization
Socialization isn't sabotaging
Saboteur isn't a socialist
Socialization isn't sacrilege
A socialist isn't a sacrosanct
Socialism isn't sadism
A sadist isn't a socialist
Salacious isn't socialization
Socialization isn't admitting safe sex
A satanic isn't a socialist
A socialist isn't a scandal monger
Screwy isn't socialization
A socialist will not be scruffy
Socialization isn't scurrilous
Seamy isn't socialization
Seduction isn't socialization
A socialist isn't seductress
Sociality is morality..
©® 27/12/17... Junaid Abdul Wakeel. #YoungWriter
We Danced written by Poet John Heck
I penned a couplet for you today.
Rather, a quill manipulated
my hand and scrawled mendacity.
The misanthrope's who read the ode
applauded with flippers on.
Such insight. Such depth.
Mussolini meets Monet and
the Mephistopheles Mambo mounts.
Call me a scribe and I murder myself.
Call me a liar and I impregnate your charm.
I purposely dislocated my arm today.
Rather, your tongue severed bone
and flesh was torn from my shoulder;
a needed braised boomerang
to stimulate my poetic prowess.
Such clarity. Such wisdom.
Lenin leads Lichtenstein and
the Lucifer Lindy is launched.
Call me a poet and I gnarl my fingers.
Call me a fabulist and I bow to a crooked smile.
A jellyfish swam through my veins today.
Rather, the tentacles of a tyrant
triggered a fabricated Tanka.
Maudlin stumbles when I laugh alone -
more comedic when we cackle together.
Such simplicity. Such compassion.
Bundy befriends Berchtold and
the Beelzebub Bossa Nova begins.
Call me a dramatist and I gag upon reflection.
Call me a simpleton and your wishes are granted.
I solemnly yearn to expire today.
Rather, a fool fires in a fury
and a mannequin lies in his casket.
The curse you've driven towards me -
a combination menu
when a lone Woolf inconspicously
devours a battered Browning.
Such diversity. Such nothingness.
Stalin seduces Seurat and
the Satanic Samba softly swoons.
Call me a parodist and I choke upon perfection.
Call me a realist when I'm sleeping on nails.
Disclaimer:" We Danced" poem written in the year 2009
by Mr.John Heck,a wonderful poet to be known who is no longer in our P.S family.
Being new to this site ,very sad to know few of them
have already demised.
Let's explore the treasure box by reading their works.
I am sure we can gain lots of knowledge and in fact
improve our writing skills too.
May the demised soul's RIP.
We can keep them alive through posting
and re-reading their dedications.
1-7-2020
Note: Submitting in "The Uncontest" Poetry Contest.
Sponsored by Anthony Biaanco.
People are basically good~
many leaders are basically bad,
greedy, setting themselves above
God and His Heaven --
Most common folk love God
in their own private, decent ways;
respecting their fellow men
and women --
Then we have a phony press,
bought and paid for by devil
assassins consorting with vile
demons,
Satanic causes, falsely, righteously
defended – drag queen shows for
children...give my mind a rational
break!
Twisting straight truth toward
ruptured ends – invoking
personified versions of filth, those
commercial ghouls of Hollywood
and music, images and rhythms of
soul consuming violence – preachers
of gloom and doom no better! "A house
divided against itself..." --
Good men like Netanyahu
and Trump attempting to heal
humanity (yes, healing can mean
first cutting the cancer out!)
Were there no children in Sodom and Gomorrah?
Get real! Get your heads re-screwed on correctly!
While you ring your sanitized hands,
pontificating about conspiracies
you know nothing about, deem yourselves
blameless for...like those evil, you also destroy,
disillusion, with lased lips of doom and gloom,
secretly hoping situations worsen so to hasten
Christ’s Prophetic return -- pushing people further
from faith and not toward it – you preach love while
spewing hate, venom toward brothers
and sisters with sleeves rolled up, doing some
actual heavy lifting for the Greater Good –
Look in the mirror – the world is a reflection
of self.
Calm entity
entered in disguise,
silence before the scream,
walked in flesh and clotted blood.
No empathy,
no sympathy—
only rage and a ticking bomb.
Each slay, barbaric despair.
Each pulse, a metronome of fate.
Each breath, a ticking alibi.
Invasion. Foul play.
Mind occupied,
inquiring around—
an art of silent prayers
no one understands.
Lucifer commands, all in delusion.
Garnished trophies to remember the names.
No fumbling, no rambling—
only mind-twisted monsters,
carved in bones and thirsty for more.
Breathe in fresh air,
roam through crowded spaces,
slow and calm,
wearing a veil of illusion.
Wearing gloves of blood,
just like you and me—
he vanishes into thin air.
He doesn’t chase,
doesn’t flee,
just the blade cutting through—
then smiles in your mirrors,
Whispers the satanic lullabies,
a cold-blooded monster
burried in a coffin
that nobody knows.
I lost a friend some months ago
'rest in peace', we all said,
a heartfelt wish that we all use
in honouring the dead.
I hope the wish we give comes true
as from this life they leave,
but flipping through the Bible, though
it's not as I perceive.
Saint Luke mentions heavenly hosts,
Angels, and Cherubims
who sing, constantly praising God
with their eternal hymns.
They must take turns and work in shifts,
this multitude in heaven,
all voices raised in Divine praise
an endless 24/7.
Not my idea of peace and quiet,
I wouldn't get much slumber,
that peace I wish, I don't buy it,
that din from such a number.
Perhaps in Hell it's quieter,
although there is less room,
as bathed in those Satanic flames
the damned all face their doom.
The groaning there may not be from
torture Satan employs,
but demons knocking on heaven's door
to complain about the noise.
{Halloween the norm?)
(Warning! -- not suitable for children
to read nor for folks presently having
mental issues. This short work is very
graphic and emotionally disturbing)
Sanity Loosely Defined
Is that a pimple to be punctured
or a sacred breast?
could they be real severed little-boy
testicles, fresh and raw, entree
for modern day
medical cannibals?~
arranged appealingly on
a ritual Progressive Plate
baked in dried flesh flour
for once human turned demon
to revoltingly devour?!
Sacrilegious Alternative Venue,
Culinary Institute of the New World Order
all inclusive Satanic Menu --
Oh! Lady Liberty long may your
Torch's flame be lifted up high
Reaching to heaven's lofty skies.
The national emblem of "the land
Of the free and the home of
The brave."
Oh! Lady Liberty represents our
National sovereignty! Our
Basic freedoms of: "life, liberty
And the pursuit of happiness."
Oh! Lady Liberty represents freedom
From the shackles slavery and oppression.
The right of liberated people to govern
And represent their beloved nation.
Oh! Lady Liberty guarantees us the
Right to worship God as we please!
Hallowed be his holy name! Lest we
Neglect our hopes, thoughts, and dreams!
Oh Lady Liberty is our statue! Lifting up
High her torch to the downtrodden and
Oppressed nations. People are fighting
And dying for the basic rights to be free!
Oh! Lady Liberty is letting her torch brightly
Burning against spiritual Satanic darkness
And slavery! Lady liberty is really
Shining brightly for all the world to see!
Is our beloved Statue of Liberty!
Love in Christ Jesus!
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954
Roxy 1954/ October Country
July 02, 2020
I'm going back to the beginning of the ending in everything. Like the past kaliedascoping inside a mind wired with colorful glimpses hiding behind reflective times. I must reconcile the spinning and twitching of memories flying by, by balancing out my time in this present life, latching on to the fact that I attract the most unrelatable circumstances to my table of unfed; crying icicle tears of lonliness...Asking, why do I even try to make sense of all this mess? Hmmm...What a situation I have looking back into....Its a maze-filled haze of unregrettable, tending to those psychopathic energy draining endeavors....from misguided tenderly trying to fix the situation into a happily ever after ending that never materializes because.......
In the beginning, there was the original sin; whereby evil seduced a new creation into the delusional thinking that there was more happiness in the taking of what didn't belong to her, than by being obedient before her maker....Beguiling her wiles was a slithering satanic smile with the plight of her newborn, slain inside murderous intentions rendering her immobilized with desperation riddled, there was no forgiveness, depression; the first instance of mourning through the imperfection in her choosing her type of seperation anxiety bereft of a Father leaving her cold naked and exposed because of how she chose to reject what was perfectly shameless and holy,.
If she had a chance, would she go back to the beginning making the ending amended, choosing wisely, instead of putting faith in a fork- tounged liar that promised.....her eyes would be opened and she would be just like God knowing evil and good, that she would never die....because of the evilness. in his lie.......spinning the kaleidoscope into mind bending times...my oh my,....